the
godmother. When it came to the turn of the party in the other boat, he
left to his friends the duty of setting the ladies ashore dry-shod,
while he busied himself in fastening the two boats to posts upon the
bank.

The old countess came up to him, overflowing with earnest assurances of
her gratitude, which he politely put aside. Upon her presently
repeating her inquiry about his family, he dryly replied:

"I come from beyond the sea, countess, and have left my family tree in
the backwoods. But you will get wet if you stay out here any longer. My
friend, Herr Koble, will have the honor of conducting you into the
house. It is well known that a captain must not leave his ship until it
lies safe at anchor."

The good lady wondered to herself that a young man, who seemed to be so
_comme il faut_, should relinquish the honor of becoming her knight to
a _bourgeois_. But as she was rather confused and helpless, and did not
exactly know where to look for her son and son-in-law, she accepted the
painter's arm with condescending amiability, and, turning around every
instant to see that her daughter was following, she hastened toward the
house, in which the music had not ceased for a moment.

Schnetz had taken possession of the two sisters, and the young count
approached Irene to conduct her into the house. But she declined his
proffered arm with a gesture of thanks, wrapped herself closer in her
cloak, and hastened after the others.

She had not looked around at Felix, but at the threshold she hesitated.
Perhaps her beating heart was secretly whispering to her to turn, rush
into the storm and rain, and call to the lonely man upon the shore.

Just at this moment her cousin turned to her with some casual question,
laid a hand upon her arm, and drew her across the hall into the guests'
room. She threw back her head with such a hasty movement, that her hood
fell off. Her young face, which she had learned only too well how to
keep under control, became cold and stern, and the moment which might
have broken the ice passed away unused.

CHAPTER VII.

Nor had Felix looked around at Irene. And yet he knew exactly when she
entered the door, and vanished into the house.

His work on the shore had long been completed. The two boats were
fastened securely to their chains, and the heavy surf bumped their
wooden sides against one another with a dull, monotonous sound. It was
by no means pleasa